


Killer Angel

by bedb



Category: Star Trek Into Darkness - Fandom
Genre: Blood, F/M, PWP anything's possible, chasing women blues bars and horses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-25 11:14:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1646618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk needs Khan's help to rescue an abducted admiral and his daughter. In return Khan will be pardoned and his people will be awakened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Implant

In Old Western lore the good guys often had a bad man as an ally willing to do the things the good guys could not. These killer angels were often tragic figures who suffered for the good and then rode away. Kirk was going to make sure his Killer Angel got what he most desired when this was all over  
I do not own Star Trek or profit from this story. ______________________________________________________________________

Kirk stared in grim horror at the carnage before him. The entire family had been slaughtered like cattle, only less humanely. Blood was splashed on the walls of the elegant home and the symbol for the Oxiconian Alliance, a circle with a hammer through it, was drawn in blood on the wall in one of the bedrooms. Well to do people had lived here, but everything they had was now in ruins, things turned over and trashed. And the sight and scent of blood was everywhere.

Spock noted it and gave Kirk a puzzled glance. Why would he and Kirk be brought into what was clearly a security force matter? 

“Of course I knew Admiral Hiatt, but I don’t see what this has to do with me,” Kirk told the chief detective. 

“Twelve people were slaughtered here,” the older woman said with a heavy and tired voice. “There are two people missing, the admiral and his daughter Tasha. We believe they have been taken off world.”

“I can’t go looking for them without permission from Starfleet,” Kirk reminded the woman. “As much as he sympathized with her, you just didn’t take a starship into hostile space, which the Oxiconian Delta was at the moment.

“My captain and Starfleet have already talked,” she replied and started for her patrol car. “I’m only showing this to you so you can see what they did to this family and their guests.”

Kirk frowned as his communicator went off. Starfleet calling. Spock had the same message going off on him. How the hell were they going to sneak a starship into Oxiconian space without getting noticed?

Apparently they weren’t taking the Enterprise. The negotiations with the official Oxiconian representatives were at a delicate stage and the admiralty did not want it jeopardized by this tragedy. Kirk and Spock were going into Oxiconian space in disguise but under official Starfleet orders to rescue the admiral and his daughter. If they needed anyone else to go with them, it was time now to let them know. Spock’s glance indicated that Uhura would be a logical choice. Kirk asked for her.

“Excellent,” Admiral Long said and then threw reticent eyes on the young captain and his science officer. “I know this will be the last person you will expect to see, but we’ve added one of our own choosing.”

“Oh?’ Kirk asked as he and Spock stood with the admiral.

“Yes. We thought of him the moment we learned of this atrocity,” the admiral explained. “I was noted in Admiral’s Marcus’ files that this man had once been sent there to disrupt negotiations on mutual defense between the Oxiconians and the Klingons.”

Kirk just did not like where this was heading. Dear Lord, they’ve awakened Khan! Two  
years in deep-freeze and they’ve awakened him. Following the admiral in silence he prayed it was some other man. It had to be someone else. Khan was quite literally the world’s unhappiest camper, and he would never support Starfleet on anything. Not after what Marcus did to him and the way they had to bring him down. 

They ended up walking two buildings over and up four flights to a passage leading to a dead end room. Through the double doors was a small treatment room, and sitting perfectly straight on the edge of a table, his shirt in his lap, lost in his own thoughts was Khan. He was surrounded by guards with phasers set on kill. Kirk could have told them the foolishness of that action. Khan was behaving because he wanted to, not because he was afraid of them.

Admiral Long took a PADD off the table and looked it over carefully. “Need to make sure all the I’s are dotted and the T’s crossed.” Satisfied with the signatures, he passed it to Kirk. “You need to sign it as well.”

Only now did Khan lift his brilliant eyes and look at Kirk. Kirk met his gaze only briefly before looking back at the contract. It stated that Khan’s people would be awakened after successful completion of the mission, that they would be allowed to live peacefully on an uninhabited planet that met all the requirements for sustaining human life. They would be supplied with all the tools and materials to make a successful start. The Federation would also make contact once a year to check on them.

In return for this generosity Khan had to assist Capt. Kirk in locating and rescuing the admiral and his daughter from the Oxiconian Alliance, a terrorist group attempting to prevent the continuing negotiations between Starfleet and the legal Oxiconian government.

And this was the part that made Kirk gasp internally, the reason why they were here. Because Starfleet did not trust their illustrious ally, Khan was to have a small procedure that would ensure he did not betray Kirk or Spock to the Alliance….a small explosive…explosive!…device was to be implanted in his chest. If Kirk ever feared Khan was going rogue, he had permission to detonate it. Khan’s heart would literally be turned into pulp. And Khan had agreed to this?! His words suddenly came back loud and clear to Kirk, ‘what would you do for your family?’ Apparently let them put an explosive device under his heart. 

Kirk had to sign the document or it was off. He lifted his eyes and studied the face of the man watching him. Khan’s face was cold and impassive, his body straight and sure, but his eyes were blazing with fire and life. He had signed the document, even initialing the part that said Kirk held the power of life or death over him. Khan was desperate to save his people, and Kirk would not take that away from him. He signed the document.

The physician who was going to perform the procedure faced Khan and said, “Lie back.” There was something sympathetic in the way he said it. Apparently he had discussed it with Khan before Kirk arrived. Khan bent his left leg and hooked the heel of his boot into a bar at the end of the table that looked as if it had been made to hold towels. His right leg dangled loose.

Lying back on the paper he raised his arms over his head in what resembled a stretch. Kirk had no idea why they were making him do that. The only woman in the room, an older nurse/commander, cleaned the sight of the injection just below the zyphoid process with solution soaked sponge at the end of a hemostat. Khan’s face was completely impassive although the monitor they attached to his arm suggested some tension.

“Would you like something to calm you?” the nurse asked courteously as if putting an explosive in a man’s chest was an everyday occurrence. 

Kirk didn’t have to hear Khan’s response to know that he had declined. Khan would never admit weakness in front of his enemies, and right now, all of the people in the room were his enemies.

The physician returned with a multi-imaging screen that he laid on Khan’s chest. He studied it carefully and then checked the ease that he could move the small oval pill shaped object visible in a clear glass tube. Using his gloved finger to look for the injection sight on Khan’s body, he said, “A little more please.” Even with Khan stretching himself to flatten his body, he wasn’t flat enough. Khan reached behind him for another bar and pulled. And for a second a thought flashed through Kirk’s head that surprised even him….now he knew why the commander was an old broad and not a young woman. A young woman would be hitting that in a heartbeat. Damn!

Khan froze as the physician bent over him, palpated the sight and pushed the sharp end of the large beveled needle into his skin. Khan’s reaction was to grimace a moment before getting his face under control. And in spite of his original objection, the nurse placed a mask over his mouth and nose and turned on a mild gas to calm him. The moment he started to relax too much, she removed it.

Kirk couldn’t help but feel sympathetic pain while watching this. There was no rush to end the procedure because they needed to get it in the right position just between the posterior vena cava and aorta. At least that was what Kirk imagined as he let his eyes run up to the overhead monitor that showed the procedure in detail.

For whatever reason the nurse turned the gas back on at the end of the procedure and put Khan to sleep. He wouldn’t be under long, but it was enough for them to run a check on everything and safely clean him up. 

“Here’s the ignition device,” the admiral said and handed Kirk a small black palm sized remote controller. “He now belongs to you.”

Kirk honestly did not want Khan belonging to him. Looking at the unconscious body draped over the table thinking he looked like someone in a porn visual, and really uncomfortable thinking that, he glanced at Spock, showed him the device and then slipped it into his inner jacket pocket.

As everyone filed out of the room but the nurse, leaving Kirk and Spock alone with her and Khan, he was surprised to hear her say, “It’s really a shame.”

Khan felt consciousness returning.

“What?” Kirk asked.

“He looks like an angel laying here like this,” she answered as she finished making notes on her PADD. Grinning at her own choice of words, she added, “A very sinful angel.”

“He’s hardly an angel,” Kirk snorted and stepped up to the table to gaze down at his old enemy. OK, he could see how women and some men might be taken in by this man who had caused him so much grief and trouble. Even fresh out of cryosleep, he still possessed the physical qualities of a born and bred warrior. There was something deceptively innocent about him

“I know who he is,” she said and signed off on her report. “I know why this was done to him, but still can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

“Your pity is wasted, Commander,” Spock added. 

She looked at them with a critical eye and said, “I don’t suspect he’ll get that pardon, will he?”

Kirk recoiled at the suggestion that he would murder Khan just to be rid of him. Khan suddenly flexed the foot hooked in the bar and sat up smoothly. Kirk was pretty sure that Khan had heard their entire conversation, but as there was no way of telling, he stood back as the nurse checked his vital signs and eyes. Kirk thought this was a waste of time, but Khan tolerated it and only once threw an unreadable glance in his direction.

Turning to Spock, Kirk said, “You can go. Be at the depot at 0900, and tell Uhura not to bring everything she owns.” 

Spock looked puzzled. “Why would she bring everything she owns?”

“I didn’t mean it literally,” Kirk snapped back with a grin. Seeing Spock hesitate, he added, “It’s all right. Go on.”

“Are you certain, Captain?” 

Glancing back at Khan who was boring a hole in his back, he smiled and said, “Positive.”

“And what will you do?”

“I’m sure I can think of something,” Kirk assured him.

Spock with held comment but glanced past Kirk at Khan. He expected to see hatred in the Augment’s eyes, but there was nothing there. Khan was masking his thoughts and feelings quite well.

Khan only half listened to their banter, his more important thoughts on the device in his chest. He had heard the nurse suggest that he was not going to get his pardon, but this time instead of blind rage, he simply accepted it as a fact with only a faint hope that Kirk would not murder him. 

When Spock left the room, Kirk focused his 8attention on Khan. “When was the last time you had a beer?” he asked curiously and folded his arms across his chest, a defensive mechanism to place distance between him and his charge….at least that would be the reply of people trained in body language. 

Such an odd question, Khan thought. “When I was last awake…maybe,” he replied.

“Well I need a beer,” Kirk replied and looked over his charge. “We probably need to get you some clothes that haven’t been in cold storage for two years.” Then wondering if he could crack Khan’s frosty exterior with something baser, he added, “Afterwards we’ll get some beers and try to pick up some women.”

All right that made Kirk smile. He didn’t know what Khan had had in his pretty little head, but picking up women had not been one of those thoughts. Unsure that he had heard Kirk correctly, Khan stood up and slipped on his shirt. He couldn’t see the nurse, but Kirk could and the woman was smiling at him. A thought suddenly occurred to Khan which had him whipping around and facing the nurse.

“This thing,” he said and rubbed his chest with his knuckles. “This thing,” he repeated and stopped. There was certain confusion on his face. “Does it pose any danger…”

“Will have no affect on your activities,” she answered simply, staying behind because Kirk and Khan were still there. The moment they got their butts on the move, she would lock up the medroom behind her and go her own way. 

“Let’s go,” Kirk said and dug his keys out of his pants pocket. “Let’s try to make this look as normal as possible. I suppose I could loan you some of my clothes,” he added and tried to size up his charge. No, that wouldn’t work. He was slightly taller than Khan and maybe a bit bigger, not much mind you, but enough to be noticed. This was certainly going to be one to be remembered, Kirk and Khan barhopping and picking up women….maybe. If Khan didn’t get rid of that scowl he was going to scare not only the women interested in him away, but those interested in Kirk as well.

“Think we can hold off on the look of death?” he asked curiously as they passed through the building and out some large glass doors leading to a parking lot. “Let’s pretend you’re not a mass murderer with super human powers. I don’t think the ladies will be attracted to that.” Another thought came to mind. “And I’m OK with you keeping your name, but it wouldn’t be wise to clue anyone in on your life story.” 

Reaching his rented transportation, Kirk was surprised to find an envelope in the front seat of a locked vehicle. Opening the door while giving the surrounding area a careful once over, he removed the envelope from the front seat and opened it. Inside were new credentials for Khan including identification listing him as one Cdr. John Harrison. There was also a pay plate for essentials which Kirk took to mean new clothes and whatever else Khan thought he might need.

“Well someone was thinking about you,” Kirk said and passed the materials over the hood of the vehicle. Khan looked at them and frowned. 

“Harrison?” he asked, unable to hide his contempt for the name.

“You were in the system,” Kirk guessed and climbed into the vehicle. “Someone made some changes and there you are. Let’s go get you some clothes. I see they gave you a pay plate. Anything on how much they gave you?”

“Enough,” Khan answered as Kirk got them under way.

 

Kirk liked dark smoky blues bars where people came to drink and play pool and meet the opposite sex. The Knight Horse was his kind of establishment. The place literally smelled of sawdust and spilled beer. The bartender was a pretty blonde, a little on the tall side, who actually lived in an apartment not far from his.

“Holly!” he greeted enthusiastically and took a seat at the bar.

“Heather…Jimmy,” she answered without looking up, her attention on the beer mug she was wiping down.

“Right, Heather,” Kirk corrected himself. “We need two drafts,” he ordered and spun his stool around to see who was present. Not a bad selection for a Tuesday night.

She turned towards the tap and filled the mug with a thick foam of cool draft. She set this in front of Jimmy before retrieving a second mug from the hanging overhead rack and filling it with more draft but less foam for his wingman. Setting it in front of him was the first time she actually noticed the man with Kirk. This was Jim Kirk’s wingman? He was gorgeous! When did Jimmy Boy ever go bar hopping with someone prettier than he? As she remembered Bones and Scotty were cute, but Jim Kirk was still the handsomer of the group. This man in black draped in a sensuous leather coat made Jim Kirk look damn near plain.

“Do you have a name?” she asked curiously and wiped an imaginary wet spot off the bar in front of him.

“John,” Kirk answered quickly, least Khan hold him to his promise about names. “John, Heather. Heather, John.” With that introduction, seeing a pair of young ladies he needed to introduce himself to at one of the pool tables, he and his beer went to make their acquaintances.

Heather noticed that John was rubbing his ever so lovely chest beneath a thin black sweater and asked, “Hurt?” 

Khan unaware that he had been doing that dropped his hand and said, “I …I….had an accident.” Which wasn’t a lie actually. Two years earlier he crashed the largest known star ship into San Francisco harbor. One of the reasons why he was wearing an explosive device deep within his body where he couldn’t just dig it out with a pin knife.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Heather replied sympathetically and left his company for a moment to wait on another patron. 

Khan would have never paid attention to such a fragile creature as this woman, his own passions stronger than most women could handle, but he was hurting in a way that was difficult to explain even for him. Starfleet had given him another chance to save his people, although in all likelihood it would mean his own death. Why were there always conditions? Why couldn’t someone just treat him and his people like living sentient beings and not monsters created in a laboratory. He was so mentally tired of their games, always aimed at making him do what THEY wanted without regards to what he needed. Anger momentarily flashed hot through his body, but he quickly got it under control. He was not going to give Kirk any excuses.

“Back,” Heather announced as she returned to Kirk’s taciturn companion. “How did you wind up playing wingman to Jimmy Kirk?”

“We are acquaintances,” Khan explained without elaborating. “I’m not sure what wingman means, but I am in his company out of necessity.”

“Sounds interesting,” she continued and reached for a clean beer mug out from the under cabinet washer. It didn’t need drying, but the soft rag removed any lingering spots and gave her something to do with her hands. “You have an interesting accent. Where are you from?”

“London,” Khan lied and hated the fact that he had done it. And damn his hair! It was in his face again, but when he raised his head, Heather was staring at him with heat in her eyes. He was familiar with that look, having seen it many times in the past, but his time at Section 31 had been so all intensive that he hadn’t had time to notice anything but what Marcus had him doing. In deed Marcus had him under so much stress, he had not thought about much of anything. So technically he had not had sex in centuries. He took a sip of beer and fixed his eyes on lovely Heather. 

“Tell me about yourself,” he said and gave her his full attention.

 

Kirk was having a great time playing pool with the girls and pissing away a week’s worth of pay. The girls, May Ling and Joey, were best friends and more than willing to share him among themselves. Thinking he needed to get them back to his apartment, he stopped short and remembered he had company. Whipping his head around, he could see Hope was clearly into Khan, who at least wasn’t giving her the stare of death.

Pasting a big slightly drunk but most definitely horny grin on his face, Kirk sauntered back to the bar and leaned against it. “How’s it going?” he asked hopefully.

Heather shook her head and said, “Fine, Jimmy.”

Kirk grimaced and asked, “Why do you call me that, Hope?”

“Heather,” she corrected him. “And that’s why.”

“Right,” Kirk said, decent enough to be embarrassed by his mistake. “What time do you get off?”

“Why?”

Kirk glanced back at the girls and waved. They waved back and giggled. Jerking his head back around, he said, “I was hoping you could drop K….John off when you go home. Or keep him, I’m flexible. I don’t need him until 0800 tomorrow.”

“I can drop him off,” Heather replied easily. “If that’s all right with you?” she asked Khan.

“Oh he’s fine with it,” Kirk answered for him. “See you later, pal.” He patted Khan on the arm and then returned to his conquests for the night.

 

Heather drove them back to her apartment since in all likelihood Jimmy was ass deep in pussy and no telling what else. Parking the flier in a designated space, she waited for John to climb out. He unwound his long legs and climbed out of the vehicle. With all the lights around them, true night was almost impossible. Gazing up at the sky, he turned his eyes back towards the island in the bay. The ancient prison was in ruins, but nothing of the Vengeance remained to haunt the citizens of San Francisco.  
“How long did it take them to clear the ruins?” he asked thoughtfully.

“Almost two years,” she answered and got her keys out of her purse. “Jim lives over there,” she said and pointed to some upper level windows. “I live here.” 

Khan looked up as a porch light on the second floor came on automatically with a push of Heather’s key chain. He followed her with some trepidation and unconsciously rubbed his chest, something she noticed but didn’t give voice to.

Once inside her comfortable but not overly done apartment, she took his coat and laid it on the back of the cream colored sofa. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as an ice breaker.

“No, I’m fine,” he said and let his eyes quickly sweep the apartment. Simple but neat with two escape points, the front door and a sliding glass door leading to a small balcony that opened on the parking lot with the bay in the distance.

“I’m curious, where have you been these last two years if you didn’t know that’s how long it took to clean up the mess that madman made?” she asked and dropped on the sofa. Patting the cushion next to her, she waited for him to sit. 

“Away,” he replied with an inward smile.

She waited a moment, devouring his beautiful face, and then said, “ This is where you rip my clothes off.”

Khan smiled. When was the last time he had ripped a woman’s clothes off? Cupping her face between his hands, he bent down and kissed her, finding her lips so soft and yielding. When was the last time he had kissed a woman? And he was being very careful so as not hurt her. But then she drew his lower lip into her mouth and bit down just sharp enough to send a shiver of desire through his body. She had his full attention now. He bent into her kiss and devoured her lips, seeking access into her mouth with such violence that it made her breathless and wanting more. Jimmy’s laconic friend was pure fire and passion. Drawing away from his mouth, smiling at the lust in his eyes, she grabbed his hand and pulled him with her towards her bedroom, but for just a moment he hesitated, his face showing a pain she could not understand. 

Maybe it was because he had been hurt, but she reached up and caught a fistful of black hair at the back of his neck and drew his head back towards her for another searing kiss; whatever doubt she had seen in his incredible eyes gave way to a liquid fire that would quickly drown her. His hesitation gave way to demanding. Pressed up against him now, his strong hands holding her in place, she could feel the lean power in his body. Running her hands down his chest and abdomen, she marveled at how solid he was, how perfect he felt beneath her hand. For a moment she considered sending Jimmy a ‘thank-you” call, but John’s large strong hand cupped her left breast and all thought vanished. She needed to get him in bed NOW.

Separating from him just long enough to get him into her bedroom, she attacked the thin black sweater he was wearing and helped him pull it over his head. Although he was still in the process of getting it over his head, she stopped and marveled at the beauty of his body and then leaned forward to taste one dark nipple. He froze for a second, and she could feel the heat flash over his skin. Recovering long enough to get the sweater off, he caught her head and held her in place for several heartbeats. A deep moan rumbled in his chest as she moved to the other one and treated it to the same delicious torture as the first.

Before she was even aware that he was doing it, he had her on the bed, his mouth locked on her throat in a kiss that was certain to leave a hickey in the morning, but oh how it turned her on more, if that was possible. With the most feral gleam she had ever seen in any man’s eyes, he moved back and sat her up to get rid of her blouse and bra. He didn’t leave it to her to accomplish; he did it himself. And when her breasts were bare, he forced her back on the bed and seized one in his mouth. Heather grabbed his head and held him tight, and in the faint light of her bedroom, she could see him in the bureau mirror, an almost monochromatic creature of pure perfection, his skin so pale in all that black. He was holding himself off her body with one hand while letting his free hand trail possessively down her body to pussy. He pressed the palm of his hand against her and brought her off the bed in a flash of pure lust.

She heard him laugh, or rather felt it, as he released her breast and moved to remove her shoes and then strip her jeans off her. Gazing up at him Heather for a moment imagined he was not a real man but some mythical god unleashed on her body. She almost cringed when he let his brilliant fiery eyes rake her body. Returning his hand to her hungry flesh, he stroked her for a moment, sending her into a writhing ecstasy and pleased him enormously.

Keeping his eyes on her face, he repositioned himself. Heather thought she would die when he replaced his hand with his mouth and tongue. Looking like some wicked angel, his unruly hair hiding one eye, he feasted on her pussy while fucking her slowly with his fingers. Knowing it would turn him on even more, she cupped her own breasts and twisted her nipples with her fingertips. His tongue found her core and lashed it mercilessly. It quickly became too much for her, and she melted into a pool of pure sensation. Unable to control herself as she thrashed about on the bed, she cried out his name, “John!”

She didn’t see his expression grow dark and angry. Leaving his hand in her wet depths, he crawled over her body like some magnificent cat until he could lean down and whisper into her ear, “My name is Khan.” Heather didn’t care what he called himself, whether it was wicked and evil or sin. He continued to stroke her clit until she came again. This time she cried out the right name, and once more she felt rather than heard his laugh. 

When he had milked her of every delicious sensation, when she found herself in need of rest before continuing, she sat up and said, “Your turn.” 

Heather lunged for her nightstand while he sat up and removed his boots. When she returned with one of her toys, he gave her a darkly curious look. “Anyone ever fuck you?” she asked wickedly. If he was going to resist, she needed to know now.

Standing up and shedding the tight trousers that were extremely uncomfortable at the moment, he growled, “You would be surprised at some of the things I’ve done.” 

Heather didn’t doubt it. She imagined at one time this glorious male animal did pretty much what he wanted to. She couldn’t help but smile when he crawled back on the bed with her, the muscles moving slowly and smoothly beneath his tight skin. Where did Jimmy meet such a magnificent creature?

He kissed her and she tasted herself on his lips and face. Surrendering to his unspoken power, she licked his lips and chin clean, all the while wanting to partake of a harder stronger part of him. “It’ll be easier on your back,” she whispered into his ear. He dropped one elbow and rolled on his back. So smooth and sleek and completely in tune with his body. 

Once more she wanted to devour every inch of him to slide her lips back over his chest, to tease his nipples until they were hard and even more sensitive than before, to run her tongue down his belly until that most male part of him stopped her. His cock was long and thick and heavy in her hand when she hefted it for a moment, but it slid easily down her throat when she took him into her mouth. He growled behind her and dug his fingers into the bedspread. If he liked that, he was going to come unglued when she took him. Using her pussy juice to lubricate the vibrator, she released his cock just long enough to invade his incredible body. Taking his cock back into her mouth and down her throat for some long slow mouth fucking, she turned the toy on and slowly moved it in and out of him.

She watched him in the mirror as he raced towards his own orgasm. Then a second before he spilled himself into her mouth, she saw something flash across his face that shouldn’t be there…fear. It wasn’t enough to keep him from coming, but what could have been so frightening that it would crash into his thoughts just before he arched his back and poured himself into her? Whatever it was, she wished it would go away.

It was nearly morning before she fell asleep and he crawled out of her bed to shower and dress.

 

Kirk looked at the clock and wondered where Khan was. He had told the man…Augment….to be ready to leave by 0800, and he wasn’t here. Grabbing his things, including the remote control device, he rushed out of his apartment and stopped cold.

Khan was sitting on the stoop watching the light play on the waters of San Francisco Bay. For a moment this most deadly creature seemed at peace with the universe, but then he turned and saw the device in Kirk’s hand, and everything shut down. Khan slipped back into himself, and Kirk hated the lack of expression on his face.


	2. McCoy arrives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk hadn't planned on adding McCoy to his team, but then he hadn't expected Khan to go to extreme measures to rid himself of the explosive.

Khan stopped speaking. So far on the flight to Mars he had said absolutely nothing. Any attempt to draw him into a conversation by Kirk or Uhura was ignored. Spock never tried. Kirk would have been content with the silence, except that a silent Khan was a thinking Khan. If his mind wasn’t occasionally distracted, there was no telling where his head was at. World conquest? Mass murder? Where he could get another beer? Who knew?

Refusing to feel guilty for being concerned about his charge’s earlier presence, Kirk nonetheless regretted letting him see the device in his hand. And how the hell did this turn into a staring match between him and Khan? With Khan sitting across from him, Kirk could literally count the number of times Khan blinked in the hour they just stared at each other. In the end Jim just didn’t have the patience or the temperament to win that game.

“Nyota,” he said and turned to the woman sitting between him and Spock.

“Yes, captain?” she replied and looked up from the PADD in her lap. If the boys wanted to go all Alpha male, she had a novel to read. In it the heroine had a heaving bosom and the hero was…well…. not sitting in a transport shuttle holding a staring contest with a madman.

“May I have your communicator?” Kirk suddenly asked. Nyota looked puzzled but reached into her jacket pocket and pulled the Starfleet issued device out and gave it to him. “I will replace it as quick as I can,” he promised and turned to Khan. “Here. There will be no more mix ups if you carry this and answer me when I call.”

Khan looked at the device for a moment, as if the thing in Kirk’s hand was a poisonous snake, before taking it and slipping it into his pocket. It was a useful tool but did not warrant a conversation. If Kirk expected a thank-you, he was going to be sorely disappointed. Khan did not trust him and had been foolish to think he could.

Arriving at Aphrodite Six, a Starfleet-civilian enterprise that looked less like pristine San Francisco and more like 1880s Dodge City, Kansas, they could have passed for anyone traveling through the starport headed towards an outer world with connections in Topeka and Champlain. Reporting in at the nearest Starfleet office, Kirk was disappointed to learn that they had a three day wait for their vessel to be finalized and prepped.

With a choice of cheap or expensive lodging, they opted for cheap because there was a really cool blues bar next door. Spock and Uhura didn’t care, and Khan would have settled on a bench under a tree if there were any real trees on Mars. Thankfully he didn’t have to share the small one room with either Spock or Kirk, but then they were confident that their leash would keep him in check.

Kirk in his single-minded pursuit of the opposite sex checked out the bar before heading up to their rooms. Khan did not want to sit and drink and hustle women, and finally ventured to ask Kirk if he could leave and walk around.

“Where would you go?” Kirk asked as he ordered a mixed drink at the saloon like bar.  
“I do not know,” Khan answered honestly.

“Have your communicator on you?”

“Yes…mother.”

It was sarcasm at its finest, but that was infinitely preferable to the silent treatment. “Don’t get into any trouble,” Kirk replied and turned back towards the gruff bartender who was a long way from lovely Heather.

Khan was grateful to be away from them. Ambling down a narrow back alleyway towards a seedier side of the settlement, he could not help but notice things from his original life discarded like the bones of some ancient settlement for sale in the open air shops. Trays of ‘relics’ were set upon tables in front of the shops that were anything but legitimate. The only use he could see for most of them was to trigger memories that he did not want to keep. Rounding the corner of one muddy street, he stopped in amazement. In front of him, tied to a pole was a real horse. Not the elegant Marwaris and Kathiawaris of his land of origin, but a chunky brown horse with a wide blaze that made him look more Roman nosed than he already was. When Khan was young, before he set upon the course that had led him here, he had blazed across the dry lands of Marwar on a fine horse with crooked ears and a fiery heart. 

The horse, not young by any imagination, looked at him with curious but kind eyes. Khan smiled and laid a gloved hand on the animal’s neck. Wishing he had something to give to the horse, and with that thought in mind, he looked around for anything that he might feed to him, but seeing nothing, he laid his forehead against the animal’s neck and apologized for not being better prepared. The scent of the horse filled his nostrils, and while others might find it unpleasant, it reminded him that for thousands of years warriors had been tied to their horses. He was a warrior born in a time when warriors were no longer connected to their mounts, living in a time when seeing a horse was a rare treat.

“If I find something, I’ll bring it back,” he promised and raised his head. Patting it on the neck, smiling once more when the animal turned its head and fixed kind eyes on him, he resumed his walk. For a moment he considered taking the animal with him, but Kirk would probably get upset if he found a horse and not a naked woman in his room. 

Beginning to give up on finding something useful, he passed a table and then stopped. Turning back to it, his eyes fell on a beat up weapon that he recognized immediately. Not wanting to appear too anxious before the sharp eyed proprietor, Khan picked up a better preserved piece and studied it closely before setting it down and picking up the weapon he was really interested in, a 1935 Persian Luger. It was in need of a cleaning and repairs, but it was the real thing. “Have you ammunition for it?” Khan asked curiously. 

“It takes a 9mm,” the man answered and dragged a smelly cigar out of his mouth.

“I know that,” Khan answered impatiently. “Have you the bullets I need?”

“I may have some.”

“Look and see then,” he countered, his irritation growing. “And if you have a cleaning kit, that would be much appreciated.” Studying the other items at the outdoor shop, Khan’s eyes fell on a couple of blades that struck his fancy. When he finished purchasing the things he wanted, he had an old Persian Luger era 1935 and three blades varying in size, including one that was long and thin and very sharp and all the 9mm ammunition the man had in stock. 

Returning to the establishment and passing Jimmy at the bar, Khan returned to his room. Stripping down to his trousers and boots, he sat on the floor and set about cleaning the Luger. It was a beautiful weapon from a time when weapons were crafted and functional. If Starfleet had had any sense, they would have known that this was the weapon to kill an Augment not their nerve zapping phasers. A cartridge ripped flesh and bone, tore up body organs so completely that you died before you could heal. If his body had born all scars from all the times he had been shot by such a weapon, it would have been a road map of near death experiences.

Not so much out of narcissism as contemplation, he had set the room mirror on the floor, propped up by a chair, where he could see himself in it. Not a scar marred the perfection. There wasn’t even a thin white line where they had inserted the hated device. Setting the Luger down for a moment, he raised his left arm and ran his other hand over his muscled left breast. He palpitated the muscle, remembering another time when he had been younger and Earth was much simpler and more violent.

After the Battle of Taxila, when he and some of his men had driven tanks over a mountain range to attack the Pakistanis from behind their lines, a ricocheting bullet had pierced him, creased an arm bone, re-entered his and stopped just to the side of his left nipple. The pain had been more of a sharp burn than hurt but nothing intolerable. Not needing anyone's help for something so trivial, he had taken a pin knife out of the pocket of his cammies and sliced open his own skin to dig it out, resulting in a lusty attack by two of his female followers. He closed his eyes and remembered the sight of the beautiful red haired Irish girl, her mouth closed over his wound drinking his blood. Never in his life had he been so completely conquored by another being.

In the shadow of a black tank, they practically raped him, although he gave as good as he got. They had not made love, no, they had fucked without a second thought to the consequences. They were alive and victorious and still young and innocent enough to not consider the repercussions of their victory. They reveled in life while the world turned a curious eye in his direction. Who was this young Alexander, and what did he want?

A shiver of lust swept through Khan’s body, but he lowered his arm and put those thoughts out of his mind…or at least into another area of his brain. When he finally awakened his people, perhaps they would want to reenact that night beneath the tank.

Picking up the Luger, he finished cleaning it well in the wee hours of the morning. He had heard Kirk return to his room with his conquest for the night and had heard the sounds of passion through the thin walls, but they had no affect on him. There was something he had to do and nothing could distract him from accomplishing it.

Finishing with his weapon, content with its looks and the repairs he that had made, he stood up and placed the mirror back on the shabby dresser. Removing his boots and trousers because he was going to need them clean later, he picked up the long thin knife and studied his body for a moment. Possessing an almost unbreakable control over his emotions, he readied himself and then pushed the tip of the blade into the midline of his belly just below the zyphoid process. Blood first flowed in a thin line down his body and then increased in volume. He ignored it and the sharp pain, needing to open the incision large enough to get his fingers into the wound, to be able to reach back and draw the device out of his chest. He needed to do this quickly to free himself of Kirk’s threat.

 

Kirk was dreaming of beaches and babes when a loud crash awakened him. Jumping up, grabbing his pants as he rushed to the door. He knew exactly where the explosive noise had come from. Spock and Uhura met him at Khan’s door. Finding it locked he put his shoulder into and forced it open. No one had to tell him what had happened. Lying in a large pool of blood, a hole in his body, a broken mirror near by, Khan had cut himself open in an attempt to remove the device. 

“Help me get him on the bed,” Kirk called back to Spock, and together they lifted him and placed him on the narrow bed. Pressing his hand to the Augment’s throat, he found a thin rapid pulse just holding on. What kind of desperation drove a man to cut open his own body? 

After reassuring the manager that they would pay for the cleaning, Kirk got on his communicator and contacted Bones. The doctor sounded sleepy when he answered. “Did I wake you?” Kirk asked with a grin.

“Nah, I always sound this way,” Bones retorted good-naturedly. “What’s up?” 

“I need you to come to Mars and bring some surgical gear.”

Bones came back sounding a bit more alarmed. “Who’s hurt?”

“I can’t tell you over an open line. It’s important you get here as quick as you can.”

If there was any advantage to Khan almost bleeding out, it was that he didn’t want to do much the next day. The wound was taking its time closing but that was probably because most of his life’s blood was on the floor in his room. True to his word, Kirk paid for someone to go in and clean up the mess that Khan had made. Uhura, armed with a phaser, offered to baby-sit their madman while the woman worked to clean up all the blood.

Khan never moved while the cleaning woman was in the room. The only indications that he was even awake were the narrow slits of blue fire that watched her move around the room.

Because he had not moved from where they had laid him, he was still nude, but Uhura covered him with a sheet. He watched her while she was doing it, and while her face reflected contempt and caution, there was curiosity in her eyes. He smiled inwardly as she did a mental comparison. All women did that if they thought no one was watching. He was too tired to mention it and simply closed his eyes to sleep. 

***  
Kirk met McCoy at the starport and took him back to hotel where they were staying. Needless to say Bones was stunned that Kirk was going on a covert mission with Khan of all people. Was he out of his corn fed mind? And then he saw what Khan had done to himself to be rid of the device. “Jim,” he began and took his friend back into the hall, “are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“I hope I do,” Kirk answered with uncertainty in his voice, “but there’s no way I can spend my time wondering if he’s going to kill himself trying to get rid of that thing.’ Meeting Bone’s bright but worried eyes, he added, “I did not ask for it. That was decided before I got there.”

“Well, I’ll get it out,” Bones assured him, “but don’t count on it winning any brownie points with him.”

“I won’t,” Kirk assured him as they went back into the room. Khan was on his side watching them. 

McCoy pulled up a stool and said, “I’m going to get that out of you.” Khan’s face reflected his surprise, a rare show of emotion that stunned McCoy who had never seen such human longing coming from the Augment. “I need you to lie back.”

Khan moved under his own power, rolling on his back while making sure the sheet stayed over his groin. Uhura was still in the room, and he didn’t want to deal with a pissed off Spock right now. McCoy placed the scanner in the center of Khan’s chest and turned it on. He could clearly see the object that was driving Khan crazy….crazier? He could also see places where Khan had damaged himself with the dagger. Another man would need at least a couple of days to recover before trying the removal, but Kirk didn’t have a couple of days, nor did Khan. He would with all certainty keep trying until he got that out of his body or bled to death.

Bones did his best to ready the incision sight, but he needed help. Kirk moved in to give assistance. The problem with Khan’s anatomy was all the grooves and creases. It never occurred to him to ask, but Kirk moved to Khan’s head and took his wrists in hand. Khan did all the work, but Kirk gave him the brace he needed.

“I take it this was how they did it,” Bones remarked to Jim, who was sensible enough to be embarrassed. 

“No, I just want to hold hands,” Jim replied with a sarcastic grin. Khan did not voice his opinion. He was too busy trying to still his body, to slow his breathing and get his emotions under control.

Bones looked back at the monitor and pressed the scalpel blade into Khan’s skin. Blood oozed from the incision, but this time the man welding the blade could see what he was doing. Khan stilled his body even more, wiping his mind clean to control the pain. He would not let pain control him. Slowly and carefully Bones worked to make an access opening. He had never operated on a conscious man’s heart before, but once he had a clear path to the device, he reached for the hemostats in the tray on the small table beside him. Easing it into the opening, watching the slow progress on the monitor, he reached for the device and caught it in the hemostat’s teeth. Then very carefully he drew it back out.

“That’s it,” he said and held it up for all to see.

“Detonate it!” Khan hissed.

“I don’t know,” Kirk protested, but Khan lifted his eyes and there was such desperation in them that Kirk took the hemostat and laid it with its explosive device in the center of the floor. Taking the monitor, he pressed the button and watched as the ‘pill’ created a white-hot fire in the middle of the floor. The cleaning staff was going to be grateful when they finally left.

“I want to come along,” McCoy spoke up with certainty.

“No.” 

Khan settled back on his bed using his forearm as a pillow. He watched and listened as Kirk and McCoy arguied about McCoy’s desire to join them. It was foolishness on the doctor’s part, but if he wanted to come along, Khan owed it to him to make it possible. “If you worry about the doctor’s safety,” Khan spoke up clearly, his voice silencing the others, “I will ensure it.”

“Pardon?” Kirk asked in disbelief.

“I will ensure the doctor’s safety,” Khan repeated and closed his eyes. He was so tired he only wanted to rest. Why couldn't they go and be annoying somewhere else?

Kirk jerked his head back around as McCoy grasped Khan’s intention. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked curiously.

“What do you think I’m saying?” Khan asked wearily, wondering to himself how the hell they ever accomplished anything much less took him down.  
“That you are going to protect me,” McCoy answered carefully.

“Yes,” and Khan was finished speaking.

He didn’t see McCoy’s face go from amazed to a slow smile, nor did he see the way McCoy turned to Kirk with that smile on his face. “I suppose you can’t get safer than that,” he said to the young captain who was still staring at Khan in stunned silence. 

At supper Khan appeared in all his monochromatic glory to have dinner with them. It was hard to believe that only a few hours earlier he had been near death. “Good of you to join us,” Kirk quipped.

Aware that he had quite a few eyes on him, Khan glanced at Kirk and replied, “Yes.”


	3. Caro Marcus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol joins the expedition and Bones gets drunk

Except for some inane chitchat that Khan basically ignored, the meal was decent if not gourmet. A bottle of imported German beer helped wash it down. Surprised to find himself hungry, writing it off to his body’s need to replenish the blood that he had lost, he did not at first notice the communicator going off in his coat pocket. When he realized that the noise was coming from his coat, he reached for it and gazed at the name that came up. Needless to say the other people at the table stared at him with silent apprehension on their faces.

Flipping the lid open, he answered, “Dr. Marcus, good of you to call.”

Three sets of hands, Spock abstaining from the effort, reached for the communicator with Dr. McCoy coming up the victor. Khan couldn’t help but smirk as he resumed his meal.

“Carol,” Bones greeted her and shot Khan a look of pure annoyance. “Was that Khan?” He shoved the phone down the table to Kirk. Let him answer that one.

“Carol, how are you?” Jim asked and winced, as Carol demanded to know if that voice had belonged to Khan. “Well, actually, yes,” he finally answered and grimaced again as she went into a series of very loud disbeliefs.

“Then what I heard was true,” she stated angrily. Even though her voice did not carry over the room, Khan could hear her clearly, as probably could Spock. Carol Marcus was not his biggest fan by any sense of the word.

“What did you hear?” Kirk asked hesitantly and wondered who Carol would have heard anything from.

“That Starfleet woke Khan up for some kind of mission,” she responded tersely. “And now you’re waiting for a ship on Mars.”

Kirk looked as if someone had just slapped him. “How did…” He stopped and looked at Uhura and her guilty face. “You didn’t” he remarked accusingly.

“It just came up,” the communications and language specialist stated unapologetically and scraped her plate with the fork. The way she was chasing a pea with it, she was destined to eventually capture it.

The only one without a look of dread on his face was Khan. This was all amusing to him, and watching Kirk squirm pleased him to no ends. That was until he heard Dr. Carol Marcus announce that she was on Mars and would Kirk come and find her? The look of pure horror on their faces was enough to make him laugh. One small blonde woman had these big bad men buffaloed and Uhura ducking under the table.

Telling her to stay put, Kirk jumped up. Khan decided he wouldn’t miss this for anything and also stood up. “What are you doing?” Kirk asked suspiciously.

“Dr. Marcus will no doubt attempt a scene,” Khan answered readily and did that thing with his right eye brow that drove Kirk nuts…arrogant bastard, “and it would be better if we just got it over with in a less confined space.”

For some insane reason that just made sense to Kirk. “All right, but if she hits you, don’t hit back.”

“I won’t lay a hand on her,” Khan smugly assured him.

“Or shoot her,” McCoy added, aware of the weapon beneath Khan’s left arm. “Oh and no knives. How many are you carrying anyway?”

“Five,” Khan answered deeply troubled by Dr. McCoy’s assumption he would shoot a woman IN PUBLIC.

“Why so many?” Bones asked, sensing an overkill here. “Expecting trouble?”

“Probably over compensation,” Uhura remarked snidely under her breath and stood up with Spock. 

Khan heard and smiled at her, saying, “I never thanked you for the blanket.” Uhura scowled at him but resisted any further exchange of words least she have to explain what he was implying. Spock cocked a brow as Nyota stalked off after Kirk who was still chatting with Carol. Without comment he followed her.

Carol was standing outside the starport terminal with a rather larger leather bag hanging off her shoulder when Kirk and company showed up. She and Kirk exchanged smiles and chaste kisses on the cheek. It was all friendly and cordial as she greeted the others.

Carol Marcus turned towards Khan, who was eyeing her suspiciously, and she thought he was still pretty, pretty like a poisonous snake. Hatred boiled in her brain, but she schooled her face and approached him with a smile. “ I do hope you are successful,” she said without hesitation, “but if you aren’t, I hope I’m the one who kills you.”

Such hatred. Oddly enough Khan respected her sentiments. No doubt the others were agreeing with her in their thoughts. Pulling just the corner of his lip in a sneer, he answered, “Dr. Marcus, you should never tell your enemies what your plans are.”

OK getting into a pissing contest with Khan was not what Kirk wanted. “Carol,” he interrupted her, “why are you here?”

“I’m going along,” she said and handed him some official looking orders.

Stunned at this turn of events, he looked at the orders and then up at her. “Why?”

“Admiral Hiatt and his family were close friends, and I have skills that can be of use to you,” she added without stating said skills. Of course she was young and beautiful and Kirk was most receptive to young, beautiful and female. Carol put on her best smile and Kirk melted. Plus she had orders. Orders made it all right.

Spock would have added that she had orders the first time she snuck on board the Enterprise but decided it was pointless. Turning to McCoy, he asked, “Are you expecting anyone?”

“Me?” Bones asked, startled by the question. “No, but I wish I had thought of it.”

With the street lamps coming on and darkness creeping into the sky, Kirk decided they would head back to the hotel and get Carol a room. Tomorrow if they were fortunate they would get their promised ship and head out. Taking Carol’s bag, surprised to find it so heavy, he asked, “What did you pack?”

“Only necessities,” she assured him.

Khan dropped back a ways, their chatter rubbing on his nerves like sandpaper. He could still hear them but not as clearly, plus it allowed him to notice who was around. Aphrodite was not safe like San Francisco and after dark the real monsters came out. Eye contact was usually enough to deter the lesser creatures, but sometimes applied force was necessary to convince the desperate or just plain mean ones to leave you alone. 

Of course Kirk was a balls to the wall kind of man and took no extra heed to their surroundings. Who in their right mind would accost them? How about three armed junkies looking to rob them for cash to buy their drug of choice? And naturally big bad Capt. Kirk was obeying the law and not carrying a weapon. He had his hands raised and was positioned with Dr. Marcus behind him. Spock moved himself in front of Nyota, gallant lover that he was.

Khan frowned and moved towards them while debating on whether using his piece, and waste his precious ammunition or his blades. Blades had it. The assailants didn’t notice him until he was almost on top of them, but by then it was too late for the goon in the middle. Khan snatched a blade out of the sheath on his left thigh, switched hands and threw it. The blade pierced the goon’s throat and cut off all but a bloody gurgling scream. This startled the other goons allowing Kirk to move against the man closest to him as did Spock.

Everything had happened so quickly that no one had had time to think. Kirk and Spock disposed of their attackers without killing them, but Khan’s lethal interference had kept it from being them on the ground dead. The Augment retrieved his blade and wiped it on the shirt of the dead man under the horrified gazes of the two women, but neither said anything when he returned it to its sheath on his leg. Khan wasn’t paying any attention to them, but if he had he would have noticed an odd look on Uhura’s face. Can you go from taunting and disliking someone to respecting them in a short time? 

“The authorities will be wanting answers,” Spock spoke up apprehensively and nodded at Khan.

“It was self defense,” Kirk retorted breathlessly. Spock looked at Kirk as if to ask ‘really?’ “Shit! Give me the knife,” Kirk ordered and held out his hand. “Now!” Khan didn’t argue but handed Kirk the blade. Someone had notified the authorities and he could see the blue and red lights flashing. “No one say anything. Let me do the talking.”

And Kirk told the story, only he was the one lagging behind and doing what he thought was necessary to save his friends. Of course an illustrious Starfleet captain and hero would not be detained and finger printed nor have a retinal scan or whatever else it was that they did on Mars in the twenty-third century. And Khan kept his mouth shut, although it almost killed him to do so, when the officer confiscated his blade. 

After the officer finished his report and the body was moved, and everyone went away, Kirk turned towards Khan and said, “I’ll buy you another one.”

“It was a priceless antique,” Khan lied with a straight face.

Kirk smiled and said, “Then it may take a little longer to replace it.” Khan nodded and slowly returned the smile. 

When they got back to the hotel, Khan returned to his room, dug into his kit and replaced the blade that the police had taken with a new one. Then with nothing to do, he undressed and made himself comfortable stretched out on the bunk to contemplate the future, but as always the year he had been in hell with Admiral Marcus came back to haunt him. Marcus had hurt him in ways he did not care to remember, emotionally and physically. That he could purge his mind of, but it didn’t help that some time before midnight Mars time, Kirk and the admiral’s daughter were making more noise than necessary in their late night rut.

Knowing that he would not be able to rest with all that racket going on, he got up, dressed and exited his room in search of some place quieter. Heading down stairs he spotted Dr. McCoy sitting by himself at the bar. Unfortunately Bones spotted him before he could escape.

“John! John! Come have a beer with me!” Dr. McCoy was clearly inebriated. Fearing the good doctor might say something he shouldn’t, Khan joined him at the bar and ordered a beer. Happy to have company, Bones, who had been deep in depression over his ex-wife and what she was doing with his money not to mention daughter, raised his head and asked, “You ever been married?”

Khan looked at the man, pondered the answer, and then said, “Yes.”

“I was married,” Bones growled in disgust. “She took everything. Why I joined Starfleet. Why’d you join?”

“Admiral Marcus woke me,” Khan answered dryly and took a sip of beer while realizing that McCoy was not going to remember any of this in the morning.

McCoy stared at him a moment and then said, “That’s right. He was a son of a bitch! What’s she like?”

“What’s who like?” Khan asked, making no attempt whatsoever to follow McCoy’s train of consciousness.

“Your wife.”

“Which one?” Khan asked, grinning inwardly at McCoy’s stunned expression.

“You have two?” Bones asked in awe. “Why would anyone do that to themself? I mean two blood sucking leeches.” Realizing he was thinking of his wife, he glanced at Khan and said, “Sorry. I bet your wives are nicer than mine.”

“Enya is an explosive specialist and Suri programs advanced hardware.”

McCoy frowned and said, “I can see how that would appeal to a man with your…uh…tastes.”

Khan didn’t add that they were extremely beautiful and more than a little adventurous in bed, which was actually more appealing than their military experience, but men did not discuss their wives’ sexual attributes with other men, not if they were gentlemen. McCoy got quiet, his frown turning deeper as he thought about the injustices of the universe. 

“Well, this has been entertaining,” Khan said and finished off his beer.

“Where are you going?” McCoy responded eagerly.

“For a walk.”

“I’ll go with you,” McCoy said and put some money on the bar before climbing unsteadily to his feet. 

“Wouldn’t it suit you better to retire to your room, Dr. McCoy?” Khan asked hopefully, not wanting the good doctor to tag along in his condition.

“No, no, I need the fresh air,” McCoy replied and waved the suggestion away.

Staring at him, pondering if it was more humane to break the doctor’s neck now or wait and let him do it himself, Khan decided it was probably more prudent to keep an eye on the man least Kirk accuse him of killing him. With McCoy following on questionable legs, Khan left the hotel bar and stopped to see where the darkness was densest. 

“What are we looking for?” McCoy asked curiously, the fresh air actually making him sound more coherent.

“A place with no people,” Khan replied and started down the street, pausing only long enough to make sure McCoy was either coming or going back inside. Naturally Bones was following. Lucky him.

Finding a dark place to stare up at the sky and clear his thoughts proved harder than first imagined. Mars was as light polluted as Earth, and it didn’t help that Dr. McCoy was starting to really drag his feet. But an empty space, a small park of some kind, made its presence known, to which Khan and Dr. McCoy entered and sat on the sandy ground. McCoy abruptly keeled over and passed out. Khan made sure he was on his side and would not aspirate any stomach contents if he decided to expel all the beer he had consumed. Then staring up at the alien sky overhead, he thought about those who unknowingly waited for him to resurrect them. Would they ever know how he suffered to make sure they were safe? Would he ever be whole again? Hot tears burned down his cheeks unheeded. It was all right, he told himself, just a release of pressure inside his head and body. Oh how he hated being alone!

It was not the sex that he missed, Marcus had made certain that he had not had the time to miss that aspect of his life. And really he was not a man easily tempted by lust. But he hungered in way for something he had not felt in a long time, simple affection. He wanted to look into the face of another person and see tenderness not suspicion or anger or greed. 

McCoy made a snorting sound, and Khan gazed down momentarily to make sure the doctor was well. How odd that this man was offering him his friendship, although Khan did not really trust it. If Kirk told the good doctor to load a caustic poison into a dermal injector and pour it into his body, he would do it. Kirk had as much told him so on the Enterprise. However McCoy had dug the explosive device out of his chest with little to no damage. How easy would it have been to ‘accidentally’ ripped a hole into his main artery? Even Khan would not have been able to recover from a wound like that. But McCoy had been careful with him, and for that he was grateful, because even though Khan could block pain from his thoughts, his body still felt it.

Letting his thoughts drift away in the silky cool darkness of a Martian night, Khan closed his eyes. He was not worried about anyone happening upon them with evil intent; the watcher in his mind was as alert as ever. But he needed to let his thoughts and emotions rest awhile. If he didn’t he would become so tightly wound that nothing short of physical violence would be able to unwind him.

The sun was just cracking the eastern sky and turning the sky to the peculiar blue that was Mars. The communicators in his and Dr. McCoy’s pockets both went off at the same time. McCoy was still snoozing soundly, but Khan answered his. “Yes, captain?”

“Where are you and is Bones with you?”

“Unsure of exact location’s name, and yes Dr. McCoy is with me.”

“What the hell have you two been doing all night?”

“Dr. McCoy has been sleeping; I’ve been enjoying the quiet.”

McCoy, rolling on his back and realizing he was on the ground, rubbed his eyes and asked, “Have we been here all night?”

Khan handed him the communicator and said, “Kirk.”

“Good morning, Jim.”

“Where are you?”

McCoy sat up and looked around. They were in a cemetery. “A grave yard,” he answered with an urgent need to get out of there.

“Safest place in town,” Khan remarked indifferently. “My master summons, and I must answer. Are you coming with me?”

“Hell yes!” McCoy answered and jumped to his feet. “Oh hell!”

“What?” Kirk asked.

“I need to pee….”

Kirk looked at the ship that they were going to use and was grateful it at least had warp capabilities. A type of early deep space vessel called a cutter because it was designed to cut through asteroid fields, it reminded Kirk of a very large Frisbee with a chunk of it broken off.

“It’s going to take us forever to get this assignment done,” Carol remarked thoughtfully.

“That’s what I am afraid of,” Kirk agreed and walked up the ramp leading into the craft. It smelled of oil and rust and no telling what else. “We’ll be lucky to get this off the ground.”

“It does appear to need some major work,” Spock agreed thoughtfully as he surveyed the passage that led to the bridge. Was that mold overhead?   
“This going to be interesting,” Nyota added as she looked over the control and communications panels. There were buttons on some of the panels. “How old is this ship?”

“At least a hundred years,” Spock answered, “although I can be more specific once I look into it.”

“Well,” McCoy tossed in his opinion, “I said I wanted to come along. This is what I get for not having sense enough to go back home.”

“Not too late, Doctor,” Khan said, coming up behind him.

“Somebody’s gotta look after you,” Bones remarked with a slight scowl on his face. “And the next time I tell you I want to go for a walk with you…tell me NO!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more of what happened to Khan under Marcus' care is forth coming


End file.
